


A Game

by officialvarrictethras



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Light Bondage, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 15:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1474690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/officialvarrictethras/pseuds/officialvarrictethras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric and Aysunn play a game of make-believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Game

Aysunn had always been a willing participant in Varric’s little games. She’d play the hapless mage to his cunning Templar, the sneaky scoundrel to his innocent traveler, the daring rescuer to his distressed gentleman. They’d imagined all sorts of games with one another, and she never felt uncertain.

Until the night came when he tied her wrists behind her back with a silken rope, and bent her over the edge of the bed. And then she abruptly felt as if she was in over her head. What sort of game was he going to play tonight?

“Well, well, I’ve finally got you in my clutches, sneak-thief,” he growled huskily, shrugging out of his leather duster with that infamous smirk. She twisted as best she could to catch a glimpse of him over her shoulder. She bit her lip and his smirk grew wider.

Now his clever fingers were undoing the sash around his waist as he approached, toeing his boots off and leaving them forgotten in his wake. He brought his fingers to his mouth, tugging the ends of each digit free from the glove with his teeth while his tawny eyes smoldered down at her, pools of molten gold that radiated desire. Aysunn wriggled a little in anticipation.

A glove-free hand reached out to slowly stroke her thigh through her leather leggings. She ached for the feel of his skin on hers, but she knew the games he liked to play. Slow and teasing and deliberate, that was Varric’s way. His sash was still clutched in his hand. He leaned forward with a saucy smile and tied it over her eyes.

Now she was hot and wanting and  _blind._

“What are you going to do to me, Guard Captain?” she asked, in a voice as meek as she could make it.

The dwarf chuckled darkly, and the white hot coil in her belly wound a little tighter at the sound, pure velvet and thick, searing desire.

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?”

“I’ll make it worth your while if you let me go,” she whimpered, her words sharpening suddenly into a gasp. His hand had materialized out of the Fade itself to push down her leggings just a little. Fingers slid over skin, warm and callused and rough against her thigh, and sought the apex between her legs. But the tips of his fingers barely brushed over the sweetest spot, before disappearing once more. A whine escaped the helpless Qunari.

“Mmm,” he replied in that same husky tone that sent gooseflesh racing across her grey skin. “I think I’ll have plenty of use for you right here.”

There was the sound of rustling fabric. Aysunn hated that she couldn’t see him, but she could smell the faint familiar musk of his pipe tobacco and knew he had removed his tunic and the breeches were next. She moved her wrists a little, testing the limits of the ropes that bound them, but Varric’s vigilant gaze had caught her and his hand grasped her bound wrists firmly.  _Oops_ …

“Hey,” he said, with a little warning snarl to his voice. He leaned in close to speak into her ear, his hand fisting in her hair and tugging her head back, closer to his lips. “Unless you want 40 lashes and a night in the stocks, you’ll do your best to just lie there and  _not move_.”

“Y-Yes, ser,” she breathed with a tiny nod. In the most secret places of her mind, she  _loved_  when Varric took control like this. His hands were moving now, releasing her hair and gliding across her leathers. They released the catches of her armor with practiced ease, and he helped her out of each piece, until she was left only in her underclothes. She shivered as cool night air ghosted over her sweat-slicked skin.

“You’ve stolen a lot of very valuable things from me, you little crook.”

“Yes, messere, but –“

He struck her backside sharply with the flat of his palm. A satisfying slap echoed across the room. She inhaled through her teeth in surprise, the rest of her sentence lost. Her flesh stung a little where he had struck her, but it was only fuel for the fire. She wriggled.

“I don’t remember saying you could speak,  _thief,_ ” he hissed into her ear and she bit her lip again to silence herself. “That’s better.”

He moved away and she tried to remain as still possible, but she was getting frustrated, as she often did when they played this game. She shifted as imperceptibly as she could, moving her thighs against one another in an attempt to relieve the ache there and –

Something boiling hot and exquisitely liquid dribbled onto her lower back and she couldn’t suppress the shocked squeal that escaped her. Varric had gotten a candle from his desk and dripped some of the molten wax in a little line up her spine. It burned, scorching and oh so delicious, for a moment or two, then became replaced with a warmth, throbbing with an edge of dissolving pain.

“P-please, Varric,” she begged, breaking the rules of the game and not caring if he punished her. His hips pressed against hers, grinding mindlessly for a moment, and the hard prod of his arousal was proof enough. This little act was driving him mad, too.

“You can do better than that,” he said, his voice strained with lust and hunger and  _need_. But his hips pressed roughly against hers again, his blunted fingernails digging into her hips. She heard him inhale sharply through clenched teeth.

“Messere, please,” she pleaded, rolling her hips against his and his excited gasp was  _cherished_. She fumbled for a moment to find the correct words to fit their game.

“I haven’t the coin to repay you, Guard Captain, but perhaps we could come to another agreement?” She rocked her hips against his once more. “I am more than willing,” she added, her voice uncharacteristically silken. It was almost a purr.

This was enough for Varric.

There was a ripping noise as he discarded her smalls with a careless flick of his wrist. Before she could even protest, he had slid home with a groan and was moving almost immediately. Her moans overtook the unspoken words on her tongue, and her hips moved in rhythm with his, set to a cadence that had been played since the dawn of time. Neither of them would last, and neither of them cared.

Curse this blindfold. She’d have given anything to be able to see him. His face and expressions were her favorite parts. His fingernails scraped the flesh of her backside, leaving little red lines that matched the ones crisscrossing his back and shoulders. Names were spoken amongst curses, scattered and broken Qunlat, whispered and cried out and practically shouted.

And all at once, the tight coil snapped and she came, back arched and hands fisting in the air behind her back. Varric followed her over the edge moments later, gasping and swearing and panting her name.

Moments passed as their heartbeats slowed back to normal. Sweat cooled on their skin. He idly picked off the dried candle wax along her spine. His fingers began working loose the knot tying her wrists together and she stretched her aching shoulders with a groan when she was free. She turned, and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands outstretched blindly, until fingertips found the hairy chest of her lover.

He chuckled, pressing his lips to hers sweetly as he removed the blindfold.

“Sorry to spring that on you,” he said ruefully, when she was finally able to see him.

Her arms snaked around his waist and drew him in with a little smile. “No apology necessary.”

 


End file.
